Chapter 7

After attending the morning meeting with the director, Dorothy returned to her own office to review her schedule with Tracy James. Tracy efficiently listed her appointments and informed her of various phone calls that she had received the previous afternoon when she had been busy running a press conference. When she had finished with no mention of the call from Quatre Winner, Dorothy was mildly surprised that even though she had not specified that she be informed of his calls, that Tracy would not consider a call from the tycoon something to tell her about.

Dorothy asked her pointedly about the call, and Tracy shrugged her shoulders. "He seemed very persistent, so I assumed he found some way to contact you."

"I would have appreciated some warning that he was going to intrude on my date," Dorothy told her with a frown. "Since when do you give out information about my personal life?"

Tracy raised a brow. "I didn't really consider Mr. Morrison as part of your personal life."

Dorothy opened her mouth to argue, then realized that Tracy was right.

"Am I to understand that Mr. Winner showed up at the restaurant?" Tracy seemed to be waiting for some juicy details, but Dorothy disappointed her by explaining the circumstances, that it had more to do with his daughter wanting a chance to speak to her.

"That is really too bad," concluded Tracy as she headed to the door. "Mr. Winner is quite a handsome man."

"He is married," Dorothy reminded her.

Tracy shrugged. She started to leave but Dorothy detained her with one final order. "Remove Randolph Morrison from the list. I don't really care to hear from him again."

Her assistant was smiling when she shut the door.

Dorothy turned her attention to work, and after writing several press releases, she found her thoughts returning to the evening before. As it turned out, Quatre and Jamila's intrusion probably saved her from making a mistake in trying to kindle a deeper relationship with Randolph. After he had driven her home, she told him that she no longer wanted to see him. He had tried to dissuade her, and when he failed to change her mind, Randolph retaliated with insults and words he thought might hurt her. He told her that she was incapable of love, and her only attraction to him was her connections, that the only thing any man would ever see in her was her money and her name. Dorothy had once thought that true and might have been hurt, but that was in another lifetime.

Once she had finished with her more immediate duties, she left the office and walked the few blocks to the building housing the Preventers, and when she came to the gate, the guard readily let her enter. Dorothy had clearance for all levels of the intelligence agency, so she had no trouble gaining access to the office of the director himself. Bill Morley was in a meeting, but his secretary allowed her to wait in his office, probably believing she was on some type of secret mission.

Dorothy had only one mission in mind as she sat behind his desk, and finding his log-on password taped beneath the keyboard of his computer, she soon had instant access to just about any computer file in existence in the Earth Sphere United Nation. She was deeply engrossed in studying a file when the door opened and she didn't have to look up to see who had entered.

"What are you up to, Dorothy?" asked Heero Yuy after quietly closing the door.

She shrugged but didn't look up from the screen of numbers. "What makes you think that I am up to something?"

"I was doing some research when my terminal was alerted to activity on Bill's computer."

"Are you spying on Bill now?"

Heero came around the desk, ignoring her question. "Ah, I see. A little on-line banking?"

"I didn't think Randolph was clever enough to bury this much money this deeply," she commented with a sigh. "I grossly underestimated him." It wasn't the first time she had badly judged a man. "What I don't understand is how Quatre Winner could have found out."

Heero raised a brow. "He told you?"

Dorothy looked at him. "He told you?" When had Heero spoken to Quatre?

He seemed to be disconcerted by her question, so he pointed to something on the screen to draw her attention from his slip. "That might explain it."

Dorothy stared at the entry in Randolph Morrison's bank accounts on L3, and saw that a substantial amount of money had moved from his account to another set up in the name of Mahmad Al-Jazar. If Quatre had the same type of arrangement with Al-Jazar, then it was possible he knew of Randolph's secret funding. But Dorothy didn't want to believe that Quatre could be involved in backing a man who extolled and glorified war.

She glanced at Heero. He was looking at her with an eyebrow raised. Dorothy turned back to the screen, but instead of researching Randolph's activities, she tried to turn up evidence of Quatre's transactions. But the most sophisticated search could not yield even the smallest bank deposit. If she were to go on the information provided by the Earth Sphere United Nation database, she would have to guess that Quatre Raberba Winner was penniless.

"He's got his finances locked away tightly," remarked Heero with grudging respect. "Move over. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

Heero entered streams of encrypted codes, but after all his hard work, he ended up only reaching a complicated entry port to a minor company in the Winner Corporation.

The door opened, startling them both.

"What do you think you are doing?" demanded Bill Morley as he headed toward the desk.

Dorothy quickly returned to the screen containing the financial records of Randolph Morrison as Heero moved away. "Would you believe that my computer doesn't work?" she asked flippantly as she transferred every penny he had squirreled away to the children's fund for the Earth Sphere United Nation. She considered sending him a thank you card from the president for his generous contribution.

Heero was chuckling behind her.

Morley watched her with his brows together as he sat in the chair she vacated. "I will just have to trust you," he said with a sigh.

Dorothy started to leave, but he stopped her. "As long as you are here, there is something I would like to discuss with you."

She turned to look at him. "I have some work to get back to."

"I have already spoken to the PR director. He is willing to give you a lighter workload so that you can do a few things for me."

"A few things?" Dorothy was both intrigued and apprehensive.

Bill glanced at Heero, silently telling him to leave.

Heero folded his arms over his chest.

"You might as well speak freely in front of him," Dorothy finally said when the silent test of wills had grown tedious.

Bill grunted. "I suppose he would find out sooner or later anyway." He turned his attention to Dorothy, and for a moment he seemed reluctant to speak, and when he did, he sounded embarrassed. "The president called a meeting this morning to discuss the situation on L4. Intelligence operatives have reported that Al-Jazar has placed an order for titanium alloy mobile suits which are apparently being manufactured on the Winner Resource Satellite X7350."

"That can't be true!" Dorothy could not believe that Quatre would have anything to do with building mobile suits.

"I didn't want to believe it either," Bill told her, "but the reports have been confirmed."

"The last four years a manufacturing facility was built on that satellite," added Heero thoughtfully. "The exact purpose was a closely guarded secret."

"I don't believe that Quatre Winner has knowledge of this enterprise," said Dorothy, but a glance from Heero told her that he thought her remark as ridiculous as she knew it was.

"I hate to ask this of you, Dorothy, since you have done such a commendable job for the information department of the Earth Sphere United Nation, but we need someone to get close to the Winner family."

"Why do you suggest me?" she demanded defensively.

Bill shifted uncomfortably, and he had to look away to give his reason. "Apparently Winner has a personal interest in you."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Dorothy felt her face heat with a blush, betraying her knowledge of any such interest. "I have shown his daughter a kindness..."

"His daughter wasn't with him when he followed you home last night," interrupted Bill. He glanced at Heero. "Was she?"

Dorothy spun to look at him. "You were spying on me again?"

"I wasn't spying," he grouched. "At least not on you."

She was embarrassed now that Quatre had probably witnessed her quarrel with Randolph, and she was furious that Heero hadn't told her about his clandestine visit.

"As we have established his personal interest in you..."

"We haven't established that," she pointed out futilely. "Besides, he is married, and what you are suggesting is immoral and may end up hurting a vulnerable little girl."

"A lot of lives may be at stake, Dorothy. We can't worry about the feelings of one little girl."

"I won't do it!" Dorothy couldn't spy on Quatre!

When Bill didn't respond, she turned on her heel and walked out. Heero was behind her, and for a moment, they didn't speak. She was too angry to have been put in this position. Bill implied that she must seduce Quatre and keep an eye on him, but Dorothy didn't think she could do it. Not without reopening a wound in her heart.

Heero exited the building with her, but she still didn't look at him. "You're going to do it."

"I don't really have a choice." Stopping, she turned to face him. "You know as well as I do that Quatre Winner would not be backing that madman! He hates war! He wouldn't put the safety of his child in jeopardy by plunging space into war again!"

"Then you will just have to prove it." Without waiting for her response, he drifted away, and she wondered whom he was going to spy on now.

The remainder of the afternoon she spent reassigning some of her duties according to a memo from her supervisor. Tracy seemed perplexed by the changes but didn't say anything, and when the workday came to an end, Dorothy told her that she could leave, that she had just a few things left to do. Her assistant reluctantly left her, and an hour later, Dorothy was headed to the door after an exhausting day when her ringing phone stopped her.

She paused as the answering service took the call, but out of curiosity, she pressed the speaker button to hear the message.

"I know what you did, you bitch!" She recognized Randolph's voice although he was even angrier than he had been the previous evening when she repulsed his advances. "If you think I'll let you get away with it, you are only deluding yourself!"

He hung up the phone.

Dorothy shrugged and headed to the door, but the phone rang again. This time she returned to it and picked it up.

"Listen, Randolph, I suggest that if you want to make threatening phone calls, you do so to my private phone. It is really unwise to call the offices of the Earth Sphere United Nation..."

"Am I speaking to Miss Dorothy Catalonia?" Dorothy didn't recognize the heavily accented voice on the other end of the phone.

"You are." She couldn't very well hang up the phone now.

"You do not know me, but Missy Jamila told me your name."

Jamila? "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Atifah bint Abdul Al-Shabat." The name stirred visions of a heavy-handed monster, and Dorothy stiffened.

"I don't know what I can possibly do for you," she said coolly.

"I must speak to you. Missy Jamila said that you are a very kind woman, and I hope that I can trust you."

Something in the desperate tone of her voice stopped Dorothy from hanging up on the woman that had been beating Jamila. "What do you suggest?"

"I will be waiting in the plaza in front of the building where you work." Before Dorothy could ask for more details, the woman ended the call.

Although she didn't know what she would say to Atifah, Dorothy couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Jamila's nanny and to possibly say exactly what she thought of an adult who would mistreat a defenseless child. She grabbed her handbag and left the building, pausing only when the security guard hailed her and informed her that the call from Randolph Morrison had been monitored and forwarded to the proper authorities. Dorothy didn't think Randolph had it in him to physically harm her, but she did find it humorous that the police would probably be paying his office a visit. His clients might think twice about investing with him.

Stepping out into the plaza, Dorothy looked around the nearly deserted plaza. A fountain with a sculpture symbolizing peace that sprayed water in such a way that formed rainbows in the sunlight, was dormant now as maintenance workers scrubbed the centerpiece. Several benches were placed around the plaza, and during the work day it usually bustled with activity, but now only a few men and women were passing through carrying briefcases. It was eerily quiet.

After a quick scan of the area didn't reveal any woman who might be Jamila's nanny, Dorothy was going to give up and head to her car in the underground parking lot. But she noticed a dark complected woman standing at the edge of the plaza, almost hidden beneath a tree, wringing her hands nervously, so Dorothy guessed that she was Atifah al-Shabat.

As she walked toward her, Dorothy saw that the woman was looking about nervously. She reached her, but she did not extend her hand. "Are you Atifah?" she asked abruptly.

The woman nodded. She was older than Dorothy expected, and she didn't look the type to abuse a child. In fact, she looked more like a kindly aunt, but Dorothy knew that looks could be deceiving.

"What did you want?"

A car drove by the plaza, and Atifah shrank back against the tree, further into the shadows. "They are looking for me," she explained to Dorothy.

"Who is looking for you?" Dorothy realized that Atifah was terrified.

Atifah didn't respond at first, then she said, "I heard that Rashid was going to take me to speak to Master Quatre. I had to escape before he could find me."

Dorothy's brows drew together. "I'm sure that all he wants is the same answers that I would like to have. Primarily, how you could lay your hands on Jamila with anything other than gentleness."

To her surprise, tears made the other woman's dark eyes glisten. "You don't understand, Miss Catalonia! There is something I must tell you!"

"What is to understand?" Dorothy didn't get a chance to launch into a full tirade about child-abusers when car wheels screeched. Dorothy swung back around just in time to see a gun pointing out a car window. The shots were fired almost immediately, and Dorothy felt a bullet whiz past her cheek. Had she not moved when she heard the car, it would have lodged in her head. Another bullet tore a chunk out of the tree, and as another round was fired, Dorothy dived for cover behind the tree.

The man in the car fired a few more rounds, and Dorothy wished she had a gun, but she hadn't carried one since she left the Preventers for a more peaceful line of work. Odd, but she had not once been shot at during her employment at the security agency.

She heard shouts, as the car spun out, and glancing from behind the tree, she saw men with Preventer uniforms emerging onto the plaza. A well-placed bullet made the escaping car careen out of control, and it smashed into parked cars before bursting into flames.

"Are you all right?" Heero Yuy had found her hiding behind the tree.

Dorothy nodded although her heart was pounding erratically. "I think so."

He tucked his gun away as he knelt on one knee near her, and Dorothy was horrified to realize that Atifah was lying still, her blood soaking the ground around them. Her eyes were open and staring, a bullet hole in her forehead, so she wasn't surprised that Heero shook his head after checking her pulse.

She turned away to be sick, realizing with each heave of her stomach, that the woman had taken the bullet meant for her.

When she awoke, Dorothy felt disoriented at first until she realized she was in her room, tucked between cool sheets. The light was low as the afternoon sun had begun to set, and the breeze from the window made the gauzy curtains ripple. She left the bed and headed to the bathroom where she took a long, hot shower, and when she stepped out, she felt relaxed although the memory of her afternoon on the beach with Quatre made her feel very uncomfortable. She didn't know how she was going to face him after her shocking behavior.

She didn't have much time to think about it because when she stepped from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her, she found that Quatre was sitting on the edge of the bed. Dorothy froze and clutched the towel closer to her. What was he going to be expecting from her? Some sense had returned to her with the shower, as well as some pride. He couldn't just use her like a convenient toy. Could he?

He was dressed casually in loose white clothing in the style of his Arabic home colony. The color enhanced his dark tan and she wondered how long he had been on Barbados, how many women he had brought to this beach house.

"I heard the shower," he told her with a half-smile. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion, but I thought I'd ask if you would like to go out to eat. "

"I...I hadn't given it much thought," she stammered nervously.

"There's a place up the coast," he suggested as he stood, then his eyes moved slowly over her before returning to her face. "But if you would like to stay in..."

"I'd like to eat out," she said quickly. He was moving too fast for her, and Dorothy was beginning to regret her decision to stay with him. The look he was giving her made Dorothy feel like she was not in control, and while part of her seemed to like the feeling, the more rational half of her reminded her to use some caution.

Quatre moved across the room to her, and while she pretended to be calm, she really wanted to dash for the bathroom where she could hide behind a locked door. But he made no move to touch her as he stopped in front of her. "There's a quaint cafe where we can eat, and then we can head to a dance club in Bridgetown."

"I can be ready in half an hour," she volunteered.

"Take your time. I'm expecting a business call, so we won't be leaving for another hour." He went to the door where he paused to look back at her. Dorothy met his gaze, and she expected him to say something, but he looked away and walked out. Did the door close a little harder than necessary? Perhaps he was annoyed by her change in attitude.

Ignoring the clothing in her bags, she dressed in a sleeveless floral blouse and skirt, and after braiding her hair and pinning it up, she slipped on sandals then left her room in search of her date. As she suspected, he was standing in his office, talking on a phone as he reviewed information on a computer screen. He was speaking Arabic this time so she didn't understand what he was saying, but by his tone and manner, he wasn't happy about something. Finally annoyed by whatever information he was being given, he snapped his cell phone shut and tossed it on the desk. He rubbed his face with his hands, then ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair before clasping them behind his head while he stared at his computer.

"Bad news?" she inquired.

He turned to look at her, and for a moment he didn't seem to know why she was there, then he reached out to press a key on the computer and came around the desk to her. "I see that you are ready to go. You look quite lovely, Miss Dorothy."

She felt herself blushing from his compliment. "You didn't answer my question," she reminded him.

Quatre shrugged. "That can wait." He came close, then slipped his arm around her waist and rested his hand on the small of her back. "I'm hungry." The blue fire in his eyes gave Dorothy the uneasy feeling that he wasn't talking about food.

The cafe wasn't far from the beach house, and everyone who worked there as well as many of the other diners seemed to be acquainted with Quatre already. The atmosphere was relaxed, the food quite good, and instead of probing Dorothy for information about her dreary life, Quatre talked about some of his sisters who were either involved in some aspect of the Winner family enterprises or leading separate lives doing what they wanted. With the resources available to them, many had chosen to follow paths away from business. Dorothy got the impression that he envied them.

After they finished the meal, Dorothy noted that the hour was somewhat late, but Quatre took a road away from the beach house. As he drove too fast, she gritted her teeth, clenched her hands into fists at her side and prayed that he wouldn't kill them. She could almost see the shocked faces of the people that knew her when they discovered that she had been killed in a fiery car crash with Quatre Raberba Winner in Barbados.

"I like that smile," he suddenly said.

Dorothy hadn't realized that she was smiling.

"I'd like to know what you're thinking."

"About dying in a car crash," she told him with a sidelong glance.

"Is that so?" He shifted into a higher gear, and instead of taking the first exit into the city, he continued to drive on the highway, weaving around cars that got in his way. When he looked at Dorothy again, he was smirking as if he knew exactly how terrified she was.

Finally he pulled the car to a stop at the side of the road, and before she could catch her breath and give thanks that she was still in one piece, he reached across the car and grabbed her arm. Dragging her to him, he covered her mouth with his. She struggled for a moment, then gave in to the heat of his kiss, and when he released her, she pulled him back for more. A car passing them illuminated the car, making her senses return, and as if realizing it, Quatre sat back behind the steering wheel, but he was watching her in the dark car.

"Did you feel that, Miss Dorothy?"

"What?" she asked, still dazed from his kiss.

"The joy of being alive."

She laughed nervously. "You mean the relief of not being dead?"

Quatre was chuckling as he shifted the car and spun it in a U-turn back on the highway.

Having spent most of the day reviewing operations for many of the Winner holdings on Earth, Quatre was too tired to go out and was looking forward to having a quiet meal with Jamila. But when he hugged Jamila and told him of his plans to spend the evening with her, she clapped her hands excitedly and told him that her mother had said the same thing. Although he was glad that Sadirah was going to actually spend some time with her daughter, he was highly irritated that he would have to share Jamila with her.

Sadirah dressed elegantly for dinner and insisted on the same from Jamila, and when she saw that Quatre had dressed in a casual shirt and comfortable jeans, she arched one of her fine brows and couldn't hide her annoyance fast enough. The dress she was wearing was similar to the one Dorothy had worn to dine with Morrison, and while Sadirah might be beautiful enough to outshine any woman wearing any garment, Quatre caught himself comparing her unfavorably with Dorothy Catalonia.

During the meal Jamila chattered about her day with the hotel nanny who had taken her to the play area of the hotel. Quatre found it difficult to concentrate on her when his thoughts kept returning to Dorothy. He had almost called her that afternoon, but he realized it would be a mistake. Even if he did manage to get past her assistant, Dorothy was very likely to reject any suggestion to meet with him. He had questions that needed answers, and they weren't going to get asked unless they could be alone. And Dorothy was going to avoid that situation, probably fearing what might happen if they were alone.

"It is impolite to dominate the table conversation," he heard Sadirah scold Jamila impatiently.

"Papa isn't listening to me," pouted Jamila.

Quatre's eyes met Sadirah's, and he read her condemnation in the slight flaring of her delicate nostrils and the almost imperceptible narrowing of her eyes. He wondered if she practiced showing her emotions without marring her beauty.

He turned his attention to his daughter. "Would you like to visit the zoo with me tomorrow? I hear the zoo in this city has a grizzly bear from North America."

Jamila clapped her hands excitedly.

Sadirah sniffed with disapproval. "Zoos are filthy places filled with pitiable animals."

Jamila glanced from her mother to Quatre, and the smile slowly faded from her face. "Mama is right. I think the animals would prefer to be someplace else." Her face brightened with a smile suddenly and she suggested, "Could we visit Miss Dorothy again? I could play at the park while you visit with her."

A blush darkened Sadirah's cheeks, and she threw down her cloth napkin. "Go to your room, Jamila!"

"I'm not finished eating," complained Jamila, oblivious to her mother's anger.

"I told you to go to your room," Sadirah said through gritted teeth.

Jamila turned her big blue eyes to Quatre, but he did not countermand his wife's order, and so she tearfully left the table.

A moment of silence ensued. Sadirah glared at him from across the table, her fingers resting on the table knife momentarily and he wondered if she thought she could do any damage with it. She finally composed herself enough to speak. "I am glad that you do not interfere with my running of your home."

"That is the one thing which you do well, although there are areas in which you may improve," he remarked as he lifted a glass ice water to drink from. He recalled from a long time ago that a glass of brandy would be useful in this situation. But a glance at Sadirah reminded him how that lesson had turned out.

"I can only promise to be more diligent in Jamila's care."

"I would think that you would be as angry as I am about what happened to her," he commented, his eyes on her beautiful, impassive face.

She seemed disconcerted, and her eyes glistened before she blinked away any tears. "I have been very busy. Since the moment I became your wife, I have had many obligations that have kept me from being a proper mother."

"A proper mother would show some affection for her child, but you seem to consider her an inconvenience." Quatre set aside his glass of water. "You sent Jamila to her room so that you could speak to me. Say whatever you have to say."

Sadirah took a breath, and when she spoke, her voice was quivering with the emotion she was trying to suppress. "I knew that you would go to that woman, but I could not have imagined that you would involve our child! When that woman told me about the day she showed Jamila kindness, I tried to ignore the fact that you had taken Jamila with you when you saw her."

"There was absolutely nothing but honest intentions in our meeting," he pointed out with annoyance. Sadirah's voice was rising and he hoped Jamila would not hear them arguing.

"You saw her again last night!" blurted his wife breathlessly.

"The circumstances were similar. Jamila wished to see Miss Catalonia because she needed to speak to her about a delicate issue." Quatre did not like being put on the spot, especially when Sadirah obviously knew that Quatre was shamelessly using Jamila as an excuse to see Dorothy.

"You drove to her house after you left Jamila here alone." Sadirah was both upset and angry. She had reason to be.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

"My father had lunch with Mr. Morrison today and he told my father that he saw you there!" Sadirah rose to her feet, and she was grasping the edge of the table to balance herself. "Did you sleep with her?"

Quatre stood. "I believe that you gave me carte blanche in that area, my dear, so there is really no need for me to answer that question." He started to leave the room, his objective the balcony where he could have a cigar in peace.

Sadirah cut him off, and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt. "Please don't do this to me, Quatre!" She made no effort to stop her tears now. "I would do anything for you, but please do not shame me this way!"

He could feel her trembling, and he reproached himself for driving Sadirah to this point. After all the chances Sadirah had gotten to turn to other men, she never once showed an interest, and he paid her fidelity back by his blatant desire for another woman.

Cupping her face with his hands, he tilted her head up, then lowered his so that their lips met. Sadirah slid her hands up and around his neck and pulled herself against him as he kissed her, and while she made the right moves with her body, he felt no response in her. He got the impression that she was prostituting herself to him, and he was disgusted to think that her father may have put her up to it.

Before he could put a stop to the unpleasant kiss, the doorbell rang and she broke off the kiss and turned demurely away as the maid went to answer it. She returned from the foyer of the suite with a surprised look on her face.

"Officers from the security agency would like to speak to Mr. Winner."

Quatre thought it might be Heero, so he looked at Sadirah and caught her wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked quickly away. "You should get Jamila ready for bed."

Sadirah bowed her head and left the room. When she had gone, Rashid stepped inside from the terrace balcony, and the maid escorted a man and woman wearing Preventer uniforms into the suite. They introduced themselves, but Quatre's mind was racing as he tried to imagine why they would be here to speak to him so he didn't take any note. He glanced at Rashid to see if his giant friend knew, but the man watched them silently with his lips pursed.

"I'm afraid we have some disturbing news for you, Mr. Winner," started the man.

The woman continued as if on cue. "According to immigration records, you had in your employ a woman by the name of Atifah Al-Shabat."

"My wife and I recently discharged her from her services," Quatre told her. "She was waiting for the next shuttle to L4 so that she could return to her family."

The officers exchanged a look, and Quatre took the opportunity to glance at Rashid. The man said nothing, didn't give a hint that he knew why the Preventer agents were questioning him.

"We regret to inform you that Atifah Al-Shabat was shot today outside the Earth Sphere United Nation Information building."

Quatre had to keep from looking at Rashid again.

"Apparently she was an innocent bystander in an attack on someone else. We thought that you might be able to provide us with more information on the woman so that we can contact her family."

"We will do what is necessary," said Rashid before Quatre could speak.

Both officers shook Quatre's hand, expressed their sympathy and were about to leave, when Rashid asked them who had been the intended target of the attack. Quatre was wondering if Rashid was probing to find out how much they knew, that perhaps he had been somehow involved in Atifah's death.

"Our preliminary investigation turned up a threatening phone call to the office of the assistant public relations director, Miss Dorothy Catalonia."

"Dorothy!" Quatre was so startled that he couldn't stop his exclamation.

"You are acquainted with Miss Catalonia?" asked the female officer.

"I had dinner with her and Randolph Morrison last night," he told them. "She had done my daughter a kind service, and I was considering investing with Mr. Morrison."

"Apparently they had a falling out last night and he called her office with a threat. Shortly after, when she was leaving for the day, a man in a car began shooting at her. Miss Shabat was nearby and was hit."

Quatre was afraid to ask about Dorothy. If something had happened to her, he would feel partly responsible after interrupting her plans with Morrison, which ultimately lead to the break-up of their relationship.

Rashid asked for him. "Was Miss Catalonia hurt?"

"I don't believe so."

After a few more polite words, the officers left. Quatre noticed Sadirah lurking in the hall outside her room, and he could see by her wide eyes that she had heard the conversation and was horrified by the violent death of the former nanny. He ignored her and stepped out to smoke, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't light the cigar and it failed to give him any comfort after Rashid did it for him.

"I should not have interfered with her life," he finally said to Rashid. "I should have left things as they were."

"You could not have done so," said his friend quietly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I was glad that she threw him out, even knowing that I couldn't have her. But now..."

"The man tried to kill her," Rashid interrupted him. "He did cause the death of an innocent woman."

Quatre looked at him. "You were supposed to bring Atifah to speak to me. Now I will not get the answers I wanted."

"She eluded my men. For reasons unknown to me, she did not want to speak with you, Master Quatre."

"What was she doing there?" Quatre asked himself aloud. "What reason would have for being at that place?"

Rashid did not try to answer the question.

"I have to see her." Quatre tossed aside the half-smoked cigar.

"I know that," responded Rashid. But before Quatre stepped through the door back into the suite, he heard him add. "Please be careful, Master Quatre."